


A Promise Kept

by rinsled05



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Ayakashi, Bittersweet Ending, Character Death, F/M, Falling In Love, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, M/M, Tragic Romance, True Love, Youkai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 07:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15383670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinsled05/pseuds/rinsled05
Summary: “‘Finger cut-off, ten thousand punches, whoever lies must swallow a thousand needles’.”They made a promise in summer. Yuuri will be back, and Viktor cannot wait to kiss him as much as he wants. Again and again and again.In which Viktor is a guardian spirit who falls in love with a human: Yuuri.





	A Promise Kept

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday gift for the wonderful [loveprez @ tumblr](http://loveprez.tumblr.com/).

Humans are strange creatures.

They come, they sit beneath his tree with their eyes closed, and then they leave. There doesn’t seem to be any meaning to their movements, any sense of purpose. Sometimes they come in pairs, in threes. Yammer beneath his tree till the sun touches the horizon and the sky bleeds orange.  _It’s your turn to take that nasty brat for the weekend_ , a man hisses;  _with your secretary of all people_ , a woman weeps.

Viktor watches, and listens. Sits on the highest branch of his tree, hunched over, legs swinging in the air. It can get lonely, being the only guardian spirit on One Tree Hill, so he takes whatever company he gets. Even if said company—below, a man yells at his elderly father to  _move faster, old man_ —isn’t very nice.  

The worst part, though, is spring. When he makes the flowers blossom and the humans come by to marvel at their splendor. When those fragile beings are at their happiest, laughing and dancing under the swirl of falling petals.

That’s when Viktor wishes that they can see him.

 

* * *

 

Someone is crying.

That’s not unusual. But nothing accompanies the sounds this time, no screams or shouts or a gruff order to  _shut the hell up_.

Curious, Viktor peers down.

There’s a human child at the roots, face buried in his knees. His skinny shoulders are heaving, breath catching at every sob. He sounds so sad, so lonely and distraught, that Viktor feels compelled to leave his perch. It won’t be the first time he approaches a human. He drifts down often, to whisper words of comfort, or dance a jig and share in the merriment during springtime.

He’s never heard, of course. Never seen. But isn’t it, as humans say, the thought that counts?

So he floats to where the child lies, his sandals landing noiselessly on the grass.

“There, there,” Viktor says, resting a hand on the mess of dark hair.

He definitely doesn’t expect the child’s head to snap up. For glistening brown eyes to meet his and draw impossibly wide through smudged glasses.

“I, I’m sorry,” the child says. “I thought – I thought I’d be alone here…”

Viktor’s breath hitches in his throat. “You can see me?”

“Um…” The child’s shocked gape turns confused. “…yes?”

“Oh my saplings.” Laughing, Viktor throws his arms around the human child. “ _You can see me_.”

It’s enough to stop the child’s crying. Enough for the child to, hesitantly, share with Viktor that his precious dog had passed away. That he had to leave and get away from the sympathetic looks and offers to help.

“The offers frustrate me the most,” he says, swiping at his eyes. “It’s not like they can bring him back, you know?”

“No,” Viktor says, softly. “They can’t.”

Not even guardian spirits can restore what is lost.

The human child fills the rest of the time talking about his friend. A stray he brought home on a whim, they had become inseparable: sleeping, eating, playing together as if making up for all the days they lost when apart. Until the car accident. The pup had wandered through the front gates, to the road outside. Tried to cross, only for—

The child pauses.

Viktor watches his jaw clench, his lips tremble. That’s what humans do when they’re trying to be brave, when they’re trying to hide their sorrow from the rest of the world. But he’s alone now, with Viktor, and no one else. No other human, anyway, who can be rude and nasty and so very unkind.

Viktor lays a hand on the child’s head again, the leaves rustling sadly above them. “It’s just you and me here,” he says. “You don’t have to hold back.”

The human child turns, eyes wide. Then slowly, softly, his face crumbles, and he lets go, mouth open in a wail, globs of tears rolling down round cheeks splotched with red.

“There, there,” Viktor says, fingers carding through the dark strands. “There, there.”

The child stays with him. Cries and cries till the evening breeze sweeps through the grass, till the golden rays of sunlight give way to softer, sepia hues. Viktor doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word. Just as the child said, there’s nothing he can offer. Nothing beyond his presence and warmth.

It’s dark when the child finally turns to Viktor. There are less lines on his face now. Less pain. “I have to go,” he says, voice hoarse. “But thank you for listening.” He flushes. “And I’m sorry for intruding.”

“You’re not intruding,” Viktor says hastily. “Not at all!”

The child’s mouth forms an ‘o’. “I thought you were here to meditate. That’s what people come here to do.”

“Is  _that_ what they’re doing? I’ve always wondered.”

“You’re silly,” the child laughs after a beat. It’s a lovely sound, and Viktor decides, right then, that he’d very much like to hear it again.

“I’m Viktor,” he says, bowing as he has seen the humans do.

“Yuuri,” the human child says, with a bow and a smile.

 

* * *

 

It becomes routine, Yuuri visiting Viktor at his tree. He comes when the light begins to fade, when every other human has left. At first, he visits for one sundown, maybe two. It shifts, gradually, to three times, every other day, and then… then, well, Viktor can’t think of an evening when he doesn’t see Yuuri now.  

Viktor is delighted, because there’s something about the way Yuuri laughs: the way the corners of his eyes crinkle, the way freckles burn soft and faded across the curve of his cheeks. Because Yuuri brings something new each time he visits, too – some inexplicable human thing for Viktor to touch and sample, maybe even keep.

And because, for the first time in centuries, Viktor has a friend.

“You haven’t changed since we first met,” Yuuri says.

They’re sitting on the highest branch of Viktor’s tree, pressed hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. Yuuri’s taller now, the round curves of his frame smoothed into harder, more angular lines. His voice has changed too; deeper, but no less gentle.

Viktor blinks, his cheeks bulging with the sweet wonder that Yuuri calls a  _daifuku_ [1]. “Should I?” he asks. Only the words come out muffled, powder shooting from his lips in a white puff.

Yuuri laughs, and Viktor’s chest tightens with the strangest feeling. It’s different from anything Viktor has experienced; unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. Nothing about Yuuri is unwelcome.

“Yes, I mean… it has been a few years. I’m in high school now.” Yuuri gestures at his clothes. (What was it Yuuri said it was? A ‘uniform’?) “Unless your country has found a way to keep old age at bay?”

Ah, right. Yuuri thinks he’s a foreigner.

Viktor knows he should tell Yuuri the truth. “I’m a guardian tree spirit” isn’t exactly hard to say.

Except it  _is_.

Especially to sweet, trusting Yuuri, who thinks Viktor is just another human like him. Viktor is fairly sure he’s not supposed to be seen; if Yuuri finds out he’s seeing something he’s not supposed to see, then there’s no telling how he would react. Humans can be so delicate, and the last thing Viktor wants is to frighten Yuuri.  

The last thing he wants is for Yuuri leave.

Viktor swallows the mouthful of food. “Yeah,” he lies. “We’re very, uh… advanced that way.”

“Wow,” Yuuri breathes. “Do you think we can visit your home together someday?”

We  _are_ visiting my home together, Viktor thinks.

“Of course,” he says instead.

When Yuuri turns to Viktor, face lighting up in a radiant smile, the strange feeling returns tenfold.

 

* * *

 

Two moons later, Yuuri finds out anyway.

He brings friends to Viktor’s tree – the first time Viktor has ever seen Yuuri with other humans. There are two of them: a human child with a broad, hulking frame that towers over Yuuri, and a petite one with warm eyes and a kind smile. They’re chatting with each other as they walk up the hill, the sounds of Yuuri’s musical laugh rolling through the crisp evening air.

Viktor’s heart pounds in an irregular rhythm the second he spots Yuuri from a distance. This beat—this feeling—is becoming more of a familiar occurrence when it comes to Yuuri. And he could lose that, right here, right now, when Yuuri’s friends fail to see him.

Briefly, Viktor wonders if he should hide. Pretend like he’s not there, so Yuuri will never learn the truth. But Yuuri calls for him, and automatically, instinctively, his feet carry him to where Yuuri waits.

“—and this is Viktor,” Yuuri says, turning to smile at him. “The precious friend I told you about last week.”

Viktor barely has time to revel in Yuuri’s word choice before the humans follow the direction of Yuuri’s gaze. Swallowing, he offers them a smile that quivers at the edges. Maybe he’s worrying over nothing. Maybe they’ll possess the same gift of sight as Yuuri. Maybe, just maybe, this won’t be a disaster, and Viktor will have more human friends. Ones as sweet and open as Yuuri.

The noise from the cicadas rises in the silence. Standing across from Viktor, Yuuri’s two friends blink several times. Exchange looks. Then, as one, shift their bewildered stares back to Viktor.

No, Viktor realizes then, sucking in a shaky breath.

They’re staring  _through_ him.

“Of course,” the smaller child says, with too-bright cheer. “You’ve named the tree Viktor!”

Yuuri frowns. “No, I meant the—”

The hulking human guffaws. “C’mon, Yuuko, just because Yuuri’s family practices Shintoism doesn’t mean he’d be into this creepy shi— _hckk_!”

Shooting a glare, the child called Yuuko withdraws an elbow from the side of the big one. “It’s really nice of you to share something so important to you, Yuuri-kun.”

It doesn’t take long for Yuuri to piece the puzzle together. His stare bores into Viktor, shooting right to the depths of Viktor’s soul. But it’s not the intensity that makes Viktor’s gut churn and his blood turn to ice. It’s the lack of reaction, the absolute flatness of affect, as if a Noh mask has slid across his face.

Viktor was so worried about Yuuri getting frightened, he hadn’t considered the possibility of  _anger_.

“Thank you for coming out here with me.” Yuuri’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and Viktor shudders. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

“Yes, eleven at my place.” Yuuko hesitates, then drops a swift bow toward the tree. “It’s lovely to meet you, Viktor.” Her elbow digs into the other human again. “ _Takeshi_ - _kun.”_

“Yes, yeah,” Takeshi yelps, jerking away. “Real lovely.”

There’s an exchange of goodbyes, then the humans leave, with Yuuko whispering heated words at Takeshi under her breath.

Viktor wishes they had stayed a little longer. Being left alone means he has to face Yuuri, who now has his arms folded across his chest, face still unreadable.

“So,” Yuuri says. “They can’t see you.”

Viktor nods, slowly.

“What are you? A hallucination? Some fantasy I conjured in my childhood?”

“A guardian tree spirit,” Viktor murmurs.

Yuuri closes his eyes. Breathes. Then, softly, “I’ve always thought there was something odd about you. The way you don’t age, the way you gave some ridiculous excuse every time I tried to invite you to my home. How you’re always wearing the same  _yukata_ and sandals, even in the dead of winter.” A shake of his head. “I thought you might not be human, but I didn’t want to believe it. I guess I just…”

He exhales, the mask slipping off to reveal a look filled with hurt.

“I just thought you would have trusted me enough to tell me by now.”

Viktor’s heart clenches so hard he has trouble breathing. That’s not why he hid the truth, far from it. And he wouldn’t have done it if he knew he’d have to see that expression on Yuuri’s face – an expression  _he_ caused.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Viktor blurts out, hurriedly, without thought. Anything to hear Yuuri’s laugh again. “I – I was afraid. That if I told you, you’d leave, and then I’d never see you again.”

Yuuri’s expression shifts to one of surprise before it softens. “But why would I leave?”

Viktor flounders; Yuuri is just full of surprises today. “Because humans are easily frightened?” he ventures.

Yuuri considers the response for a moment. “Even if that’s true, I have no reason to be frightened by you. You’ve been nothing but nice to me.” His eyebrows knit together, nose scrunching. “Unless your long-term plan is to eat me when I reach adulthood.”

" _Eat_ you?” Viktor says, aghast. “I’m a guardian spirit, not some low-ranked demon!” He lets out a huff that blows silver bangs out of his eyes. “Besides, I’d much rather eat  _daifuku_.”

There’s a beat, tension hovering in the air between them. Then it drops, and a slow smile spreads across Yuuri’s face, incandescent in the fading light. “Of course you would,” he says.

Beautiful, Viktor thinks, heart racing. How can a human be this dizzyingly, unassumingly, beautiful? Reaching out, he wraps his fingers around Yuuri’s wrist. Tugs Yuuri close to feel his warmth - a reminder that this is real, that Yuuri hasn’t run away and abandoned him to eternal solitude, with the humans who yell and shout and say horrible things to one another. 

“Does this mean you’ll still visit?” Viktor whispers, a gust of breath against Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri makes a non-committal noise, but his cheeks dust pink. “Maybe,” he says. “If you’ll promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” Viktor says.

“No more secrets,” Yuuri says, firmly. “And I won’t stop my visits.”

Viktor’s answer is swift. “I promise.”

Yuuri shakes his head, lifting his hand with his pinkie raised. “Doesn’t count unless we pinkie promise.”

“What’s a pinkie promise?”

“It’s a vow that humans make. We’d hook our pinkies together, and then we’d sing,  _‘Finger cut-off, ten thousand punches, whoever lies must swallow a thousand needles’_.”

“Humans are brutal,” Viktor says, staring wide-eyed at Yuuri’s finger.

“We’re not  _actually_ going to do any of those things.” Yuuri’s mouth curves, with a hint of sadness. “But we’d feel the same sort of pain if the promise is broken, wouldn’t we?”

Like a short while ago, when Yuuri looked at Viktor as if  _he_ was the one who had run over Yuuri’s dog.

Viktor would rather swallow a million needles than see that look again.

Curling his pinkie round Yuuri’s, he mouths along carefully to Yuuri’s sing-song vow.

 _“‘Finger cut-off, ten thousand punches, whoever lies must swallow a thousand needles’_.”

A promise made, together, in the heat of summer.

 

* * *

 

“Can I ask you something?” Viktor says.

Yuuri shifts and looks at Viktor, hair falling across his forehead, brown eyes soft and warm. ( _Wow_ , Viktor thinks, utterly, completely charmed.) He’s older now, out of his school uniform and dressed in a red  _jinbei_ [2] with an apron of a darker shade around his waist. A  _hanten_ [3] completes his outfit, protecting his delicate human skin from the autumn winds. True to his word, Yuuri continues to drop by every evening. Even has Yuuko and Takeshi accompanying him on occasion. The last time the two humans came, they brought  _daifuku_ , offering it to Viktor’s tree with reverence. Or Yuuko did, at least. (Viktor always liked her better.)

“Why did you choose to bring your friends that day?” Viktor's mouth is full of chestnut-flavored  _dorayaki [4]_—delicious yet nowhere near as heavenly as  _daifuku_ —but Yuuri is used to it by now. “You’ve never brought friends to meet me when you were younger."

Yuuri cocks his head to one side. “You were my only friend until Yuuko and Takeshi.”

Viktor pauses. “But you had all those classmates from school.”

“Classmates, not friends.” Yuuri’s gaze turns to the leaves above them, burning bright red against the darkening sky. “They weren’t very nice.”

Anger flares deep inside Viktor, like the embers before a growing flame. He has seen firsthand what humans do to each other, the hurtful things they say. Viktor’s thoughts become vicious, cruel. If he knew the humans responsible… “Did they call you names?” he growls, drawing up to full height. “Did they—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Yuuri smiles up at him. “I have you.”

Viktor’s chest goes hot and tight in an entirely different way, the last of the  _dorayaki_ slipping out of his fingers. He thought he was happy before, but that had nothing on  _this_. This is – this is –…

Viktor rests a hand against the riotous beat of his heart.

…what  _is_ this?

 

* * *

 

The snow is falling when Yuuri becomes wracked with a cough.

It’s nasty and persistent and just won’t go away. Viktor hates the way it makes Yuuri gasp for air, the way it makes him shake and tremble with each violent expulsion. Hates, with his entire being, the way he can’t do a damn thing about it.

“There are herbs,” Viktor says, cringing as Yuuri quakes with another bout of coughs, the sound of his once-sweet voice gone rough and wet. “Mushrooms that will cure any illness. It has helped spirits and demons with their ailments, so I’m sure it’ll work just as well for you.”

When Yuuri doesn’t—cannot—respond, he plunges on, sidesteps the worry that tries to seize his heart. (Humans are just so  _fragile_.) “I don’t know where they grow, these mushrooms, but I know someone who does. Granted, I’m not supposed to leave my tree, but if it’s just for a few sunrises, I think—”

“Viktor.” Yuuri’s laugh comes out in a rasp. “You’re babbling.”

Viktor swallows. Wrong, that sound was all wrong. “I just want you to get better.”

“I know,” Yuuri sighs, a puff of breath in the cold air. He shivers, despite being bundled in a thick coat that nearly triples his size. Despite being wrapped in Viktor’s tight embrace. “I’m sorry I’m not much fun to be around these days. I didn’t even bring any desserts."

“It’s not your fault you have a delicate body,” Viktor chides. “Besides, all I want is  _you_.”

Yuuri’s face goes soft and bright. He looks up at Viktor, snowflakes catching in his hair, his lashes, and Viktor realizes then, heart skipping, just how much he  _wants._  This feeling, and Yuuri, and  _this_. Forever, always.

“I’ll find you those herbs,” Viktor says, fiercely.

 

* * *

 

Only, Viktor never gets the chance.

Because Yuuri returns at sunrise before Viktor sets off, still bundled in his giant coat, still shaking from his coughs.

“There’s a hospital in the city,” he tells Viktor in between the horrid, wet sounds. “Better equipment, better treatments, to get rid of this… problem inside me.”

“Oh,” Viktor says, his heart sinking to his knees. 

The city is far. Too far for Yuuri to travel all the way to One Tree Hill.

“I’ll be back, I promise,” Yuuri says. “I’m not all that keen to swallow needles.”

To anyone who doesn’t know Yuuri, they’d think him optimistic and full of cheer, that he honestly, truly, believes in his own words. But Viktor knows Yuuri. Has known Yuuri since he found him curled in grief and misery at the roots of his tree. Yuuri’s mouth is curved, yes, and his cheeks flushed, but his eyes… his eyes are glistening, as if damp from unshed tears.

Yuuri is being brave again, just as he was those many years ago.

Without waiting for a response, Yuuri turns to leave, but Viktor’s not letting him go. Not like that, not after all the time they’ve shared together.

So, Viktor grabs his wrist and pulls him in.

Captures Yuuri’s mouth with his.

Viktor has watched humans comfort each other and say their farewells with the same gesture, century after century. He knows, having seen multiple reactions, what to expect. But he wasn’t ready for the softness of Yuuri’s lips, for the catch of Yuuri’s breath, the slip of Yuuri’s hands into his hair. He wasn’t ready for his heart to thunder in his chest, like the deafening explosion of fireworks in the night sky.

This feeling - unknown, unnamed, but it reminds Viktor of the first time his tree sprouted leaves, the first time he perched on its branches, strong and sturdy.

It reminds Viktor of home.

When Viktor pulls away, Yuuri’s eyes flutter open, his lips parted. “What was that for?” he murmurs, voice low.

“A goodbye.” Viktor brushes a lock of dark hair off Yuuri’s temple, tucks it tenderly behind his ear. “I’ve seen humans do it all the time.”

“And is it well received?”

Viktor ponders. “Sometimes.”

Yuuri’s coughs wrack his being from the quiet chuckle. “You’re silly,” he says, and Viktor’s chest aches.

He can’t lose this. Can’t lose Yuuri.

“Please come back.” Viktor presses his lips into Yuuri’s hair. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Yuuri draws in a deep, shuddering breath. He threads his fingers through Viktor’s hair, tracing the silver strands down Viktor’s cheek, neck, chest. Slides a palm just below the line of collarbones, fingers splayed.

“Viktor, I-" Yuuri swallows, pauses for what feels like eternity. “Kiss me again?” he finally implores, soft and tentative.

Viktor obliges.

They made a promise in summer. Yuuri will be back, and Viktor cannot wait to kiss him as much as he wants. Again and again and again.

 

* * *

 

Winter turns to spring, then summer, then fall.

Viktor watches the humans come and go, watches them bicker and wail beneath his tree. There weren’t many in spring; he had no heart for his flowers this time, no energy to coax them into full bloom.

It isn’t the same without Yuuri.

He misses Yuuri with his laugh, his soft smile and warm eyes. Yuuri sharing his stories of Yuuko and Takeshi, of his family’s antics in their hot spring inn by the sea. Yuuri, who looks at him as if  _he_ is the sun that gives Yuuri life, when it has clearly, always, been the other way around.

Yuuri’s a fool, Viktor can’t help but sigh. Wasting his precious time with a being that no other human can see, time he could have spent finding good human friends like Yuuko and Takeshi.

But, oh, does Viktor hope Yuuri will never figure that out.

It’s when his tree has lost all its leaves that Viktor, finally, meets Yuuri’s sister.

She looks nothing like Yuuri with the narrowed, droopy eyes, the unkempt mane she has for hair, but Viktor recognizes the  _hanten_  and the red  _jinbei_ that Yuuri has been wearing since he became an adult. Knows, instantly, that it must be Yuuri’s sister, when she rests a palm on the trunk of his tree with a quiet “Hey, Viktor.”

But where is Yuuri?

Viktor drifts down to the grass, inches close to Yuuri’s sister as she sits on a protruding root. On closer scrutiny, her lips are trembling, her eyes swollen with dark circles.

“Listen, I’m here because, uh…” She laughs, shakily, running a hand through her hair. “God, look at me, talking to a tree. The things I do for you, baby brother.” 

A message from Yuuri, Viktor thinks, beaming. He must be home, tired from the travel but wanting Viktor to know of his return—

“Yuuri’s gone,” she says.

Viktor's smile falls.

Like a broken dam, Yuuri's sister goes on and on, words flooding forth, unrestrained. Something about doctors doing the best they could, advanced stages, and Yuuri fighting until the very end.

But Viktor hardly hears anything over the shatter of his heart into a thousand pieces, over the echo of the same thought, unending, unrelenting.

They made a promise.

 _They made a promise_.

That Viktor would stop holding secrets, that Yuuri would always come back. It was a pinkie promise too, with hooked pinkies and a scary little sing-song rhyme.

Yuuri’s sister is still talking, her voice fading in and out of his awareness. “—not the only spirit he's seen, but you were all he talked about. Viktor this, Viktor that. Almost like he was in love with you or something...”

Love.

That feeling he couldn’t name, that strange, familiar feeling of joy and yearning and home.

Hands over his ears, Viktor wrenches his eyes shut—he can’t take anymore talk of Yuuri—but all he sees then, behind his eyelids, is  _Yuuri_. Yuuri’s head tipping up to smile at him, Yuuri’s eyes gleaming warm and soft, Yuuri’s lashes sweeping shyly over his cheeks.

_But why would I leave?_

_I have you._

_You’re silly._

  _...kiss me again?_

Something snaps inside Viktor, and he breaks with it, every shard, every fragment of his soul, howling in unison, a raw, primal sound. He should have known better than to get attached to something so delicate, so fragile. Something as ephemeral as the blossoms that wither and die with each passing season. Not even guardian spirits can restore what is lost. And now there’s nothing left for him in this world, nothing left but to sob and scream until his throat burns and his eyes run out of tears.

Yuuri isn't the fool.

 _He_ is.

 

* * *

 

“Evening, Viktor!”

Viktor doesn’t move, doesn’t bother to turn. He’s on the highest branch of his tree, staring blankly into the distance. Yuuri’s sister was his last proper visitor, and as far as Viktor’s concerned, his final one. No one could replace the gaping hole in his heart. No one but Yuuri.

“We brought some plum-flavored  _daifuku_. It’s a seasonal flavor, just for late winter! But you probably know that from um… from Yuuri-kun.”

Viktor flinches, but he stays on the branch.

The next voice is deeper, more awkward. “We, uh, we heard that you haven’t been flowering well, so uh… we wanted to come and make sure you were okay.”

“It’s what Yuuri-kun would have wanted.”

“He’d probably come back and haunt us if we let you with—  _ow_!”

“—anyway, that’s all we wanted to say! We’ll be back tomorrow, okay?" 

Slowly, Viktor turns, just in time to catch Yuuko and Takeshi leave, Yuuko clicking her tongue as Takeshi rubs ruefully at his side. Propped against the trunk is a paper bag, the same kind Yuuri used to bring on his visits.

Yuuri’s friends keep to their word.

They return every sundown, with a story to share, and a dessert of some kind. They’d talk about Yuuri a lot, reminiscing about the fun they had in school, how they laughed and studied together. How Yuuri accepted their relationship with an open heart, never once expressing reservations about the trio becoming a duo.

“I think a lot of that had to do with you,” Yuuko says, smiling up at Viktor’s tree.

And Viktor joins them from then on, sits across from Yuuko and watches them laugh at each other’s words. It still hurts sometimes. Wondering, always wondering, what could have been. If he and Yuuri could have been as happy as Yuuko and Takeshi, if Yuuri hadn’t fallen sick. If Viktor had told Yuuri how much he loved him.

But something about Yuuko’s warmth fills the cracks of hollow emptiness in Viktor’s chest.

Something about her reminds him of Yuuri.

“Oh, I won’t be coming around quite as much for the next few weeks. Forced bedrest, ugh.” Viktor’s gaze snaps up, noticing for the first time that Yuuko’s belly has expanded to the size of a gigantic, overgrown shrub. “But Takeshi-kun will be back, won’t you Takeshi-kun?”

“Yep.” Takeshi flashes a raised thumb. “Also, I think the Katsuki family wants to have a  _hanami_ [5] party with you this year.” Flushing, he pats at the roots, still awkward after a whole year of one-sided interaction. “So try to perk up, yeah? Show Yuuri’s family some of your best flowers.”

Viktor knows they can’t see him.

But he nods anyway.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri’s parents are open and sweet, just like Yuuri.

“Thank you for looking after our son,” they say, bowing low and deep, faces etched with lines from losing a child before their time.

I’m sorry, Viktor wants to say. Your son was— _is_ —my light, my life, my love, and I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for him.

But they cannot hear him, so Viktor does the next best thing.

The humans declare his flowers this year the most spectacular they have ever seen. They return in droves to drink and dance and sing beneath his tree, for humans are fickle that way, loving him only when he fulfills their wants and wishes.

Not Yuuri, though. Never Yuuri.

Yuuri gives and gives and hasn’t stopped giving. Because Yuuri did come back. Not in the way Viktor wants, but he did. Through his friends, his family. Humans who love Viktor unconditionally through their love of Yuuri.

And Viktor hovers over them now, mouth full of strawberry-flavored  _daifuku_ , as they watch the fall of his petals together. As his heart mends, slowly but surely.

Yuuko rolls up a large pram, her stomach no longer swollen in size. “This is Axel, Loop, and Lutz,” she says, with a hint of pride.

Takeshi's sigh is exasperated and tinged with fondness. “Told you she’s obsessed with figure skating.”

Viktor leans over, silver hair falling over round faces. Three pairs of eyes stare back at him, drawn big and wide. “Hello,” he says, wiggling his fingers in greeting.

He freezes when one of them grabs at his hair with a tiny fist. And  _pulls_.

“Ouch,” Viktor says, chest tight, while Yuuko and Takeshi puzzle over the sudden bout of giggles that erupt from inside the pram.

 

* * *

 

_I'll watch over them, Yuuri._

_I promise._

**Author's Note:**

>  _Finger cut-off, ten thousand punches, whoever lies must swallow a thousand needles_  
>  指切拳万、嘘ついたら針千本呑ます  
> ~a pinkie swear that Japanese children still carry out to this day. 
> 
> 1) Daifuku: 大福 (great luck), a delicious dessert made of powdered mochi stuffed with, usually, red bean paste. I say "usually" because there are special flavors for every season. :3
> 
> 2) Jinbei:甚平, the Japanese traditional clothing that Hiroko and Mari wear as their uniform at the inn. 
> 
> 3) Hanten: 袢纏, another Japanese traditional clothing that functions as a coat. 
> 
> 4) Dorayaki: どら焼き, another delicious dessert that typically has red bean filling between two slices of sweet pancake pieces. One of my favorites!
> 
> 5) Hanami: 花見 (flower viewing), an activity/event that many Japanese participate in during spring, when the cherry blossoms are out in full bloom. They welcome the new season with food, drinks, and lots of merriment. 
> 
> Please check out my other fics [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rinsled05/pseuds/rinsled05/works) and come say hi on my tumblr @ [dreaming-fireflies](http://dreaming-fireflies.tumblr.com)


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